


fire and gold

by CkyKing



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Self-cest, making the most out of the multiverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CkyKing/pseuds/CkyKing
Summary: “Another Stark,” they whisper, greedy and wary, “Tony Stark from another world,” others correct, looking at their closeness and the vicious curve of their lips, at the way Tony’s eyes lighten from storm to sky as he leads his smaller companion by their linked arms, expertly moving them across the venue from one group to another, carving a path out of their combined charm and the striking picture they make.Tony, for his part, can’t look away—doesn’t want to, really.





	fire and gold

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from but I am now dedicated to writing more Tonycest, even if only out of spite for having to wade through the comics' timelines to get what I wanted to read aka create the content you want to see

Anthony is a vision come to life, and no one knows whether to approach him or shy away, afraid of being burned yet seeking to touch, at least once, this new player in the game, this creature clad in red and black with a proprietary hand at Tony Stark’s elbow and an easy smile for those who approach them.

“Another Stark,” they whisper, greedy and wary, “Tony Stark from another world,” others correct, looking at their closeness and the vicious curve of their lips, at the way Tony’s eyes lighten from storm to sky as he leads his smaller companion by their linked arms, expertly moving them across the venue from one group to another, carving a path out of their combined charm and the striking picture they make.

Tony, for his part, can’t look away—doesn’t want to, really.

Because Anthony moves with the sleepy grace of a playful predator, because he is fire and gold in a sea of white and black; light dancing off the purposeful artlessness of his curls, the subtle hints of gold on his tie, turning his eyes molten as he plays their audience expertly with easy charm and easier looks, the red of his shirt growing bloodier as he cuts people down so Tony can raise them up, taunts and offends and misdirects until they are eating out of his palm, admiration and hunger and resentment glancing away from him as he slots himself contently against Tony’s side.

It’s hard not to fall in love with this version of himself, this Tony Stark a step to the left with silver at his temples and delicate crow’s feet at the corners of his crinkling eyes, with his energy and life and dreams filling the room, making him larger than life for all that his head fits perfectly under Tony’s chin when they sway together.

If he looks closely enough, he can imagine the flickers of fire under his skin, delicate pink at his cheeks and deep red at the hollow of his throat, radiant and ephemeral, and Tony _wants_.

Briefly, he wonders if it would flare at his touch, if it would follow the path of his hands and lips as he mapped the body he had come to know so well, relearning the shape of him so there would be no places left unmarked, no borders left uncrossed between them.

He knows what they all think but don’t dare say: of course it would end this way, of course Tony Stark couldn’t love anyone more than himself.

There is nothing further from the truth.

Because Anthony and him may be made of the same broad strokes, but it’s the fine details, the differences between them that catch and hold their attention, stop them from repelling each other like two electrons brought together.

Anthony, he thinks, Anthony who walks the tightrope between creation and destruction constantly, who chokes down blood and leaves weapons to die stillborn in his mind, who created a family out of hope and code, who bends under his own will but would break himself resisting any other.

Smart and strong and resilient, hurting and guilty and always atoning, taking iron from the blood on his hands and forging it into an armor around the world.

Is it any wonder he doesn’t want to let go?


End file.
